At The Beginning I The Order of the Phoenix
by Katalyna
Summary: AU, WIP - First in a series of 'books' that follow Harry's fifth year. R/H, Harry/Cho, Draco/Ginny, H/G - in progress
1. Default Chapter

**_At The Beginning, book one  
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_**

_This is a Ron/Hermione and Ginny/Harry set of fics. I don't know how long this'll take, nor do I know how long I'll be writing it. I just keep getting interesting flashes of inspiration, and I know I have quite a few days coming up in which to broaden my writing skills. Since book five isn't out yet, we don't know how things are going to turn out – so, I shall state at this very moment that my fic will more than likely be an AU. Wee, AU! :) Also, it'll probably be a lil' jumpy. Mostly on account of the fact that I don't plan on going through every little moment of every little year – I've got key plot points, etc._

One last thing. I'm not JK Rowling, nor do I own any of the characters that will be used therein. Unless I create one. Then you'll know. The inspiration for this fic was the Richard Marx/Donna Lewis song from Anastasia called "At the Beginning" – and the little Ron/Hermione videothingie that was created to go with the song. It was cute. I liked it, and it made me cry. (I'm a huge sap ;p) So therefore, I took this a lil' farther in my mind and expanded it. (Ok, truly a LOT farther - I'm looking at several 'books' with this. Woo hoo!) I hope you enjoy.

  


_**Chapter One**_

It wasn't the first time that Harry cursed the scar on his forehead. He glared at in the mirror and sighed as his aunt screeched at him to get downstairs and start weeding the garden. Normally, Harry would have just said "In a minute!" and gone downstairs, to do her bidding. But that was before the Goblet of Fire, and the Triwizard Tournament, and Cedric Diggory. Raking a hand through his hair, Harry made his way downstairs to where his aunt was busily staring outside at the neighbors. "Why?" He asked casually, stopping to grab a soda from the refrigerator.

"What did you say to me?" Petunia demanded, turning from her window. It was times like this that she became utterly infuriated with the boy, and his assumption that he didn't have do as he was told. He reminded her at these times especially of his father. Sometimes, she was able to forget about the fact that he was born of James Potter and focus on the fact that he was his sister's son, but this was most definitely not one of those times.

"I asked you why." He stated calmly, finishing the soda. Harry smiled inwardly at the mottling of his aunt's neck as she began to become enraged. The summer had passed more or less like this, with Harry taking the chances to 'extend' his boundaries around the house. He wasn't exactly rebelling against the Dursley's – he always did as he was asked, but only after questioning them to their motives. Of course, when he had first begun to do so, his uncle Vernon has been furious and had blustered, threatening to send the boy to bed with no supper. It had been then that Harry had dropped his bombshell on them. No Sirius this time, no threat of magic. This time, it was the cold, hard truth.

"None of your threats bother me anymore, Uncle Vernon." He had stated quite calmly, his eyes slightly deadened. "I've seen grown men chop off their hands out of fear, and seen a classmate of mine die. Do you really think there's anything you can come up with that will faze me in the slightest?"

Perhaps it hadn't been the words that had stopped the Dursleys, but it certainly had been the tone. Harry's eyes remained dead, and his voice took on a cold, dispassionate tone. "I've seen dead men rise from their graves and the ghosts of my mother and father speak to me, and I've had to face perils that you would only have nightmares about. There is nothing, and I repeat, -nothing- that would make me afraid of you. Not anymore."

His aunt's face had gone pale at the mention of death and ghosts, and his uncle's face began to turn purple. Surprisingly, Dudley continued to look interested. Taking this break from the yelling to continue, Harry looked right at Dudley. His voice didn't change, but it remained the cold tone that he had started with. "What would you know, about having your life constantly in danger when you're outside of this house? Do you know that there's a wizard after me who killed my mother and father, and who wants to kill me? I've been tortured, and had nightmares beyond reckoning, and you expect me to still be afraid of your blustering? Not anymore. I do respect everything that you have done for me, but the time has come for me to start standing up for myself. If you want something done, ask. I will do it, only because I do owe you for protecting me all these years. But I refuse to be treated like a slave or a second class citizen anymore."

Those last words had been delivered with a passion that the Dursley's hadn't expected, and since then they had pretty much left Harry to his own devices. When they did request something, as Aunt Petunia was doing now, Harry did challenge them – but in the end, he did the menial task for them.

"Because they need weeding." Aunt Petunia stated finally, her eyes never leaving her nephew. Nodding at his aunt, Harry placed the can in the trash and made his way out to the garden, to begin his task of weeding.

Harry had just settled down in the flower beds when Hedwig came flying into view, carrying two different parchments. She landed on the fence surrounding the flowerbed and hooted at Harry, irritation clearly evident in the owl's demeanor as she flapped her wings. "Thanks, Hedwig…" Harry murmured, lightly rubbing the owl's feathers. She nipped at his fingers as he untied the parchments, and studied them. One was addressed to him in the familiar scrawl of Sirius, while the other was tied in a red and gold ribbon, and his name was written on it in a very unfamiliar scrawl, one that was quite elegant and stately. Frowning, Harry untied the ribbon carefully, and unrolled the parchment. 

_"Harry – _

I trust that Hedwig has found you in good health and that your summer has been quite uneventful. As such, it is time to break the tranquility that Privet Drive holds for you and request that you come forth once more to take the burden that was delivered upon you when you were naught but a child. At exactly noon tomorrow, the ribbon in your hands will turn into a portkey, and you will be taken to an undisclosed but secure location for a meeting of minds, which, dare I say, you'll find refreshing and invigorating, not to mention a reminder of those who you leave behind every summer. 

Until then – 

Professor Albus Dumbledore"

Harry's eyes narrowed at the letter, and he frowned at the ribbon in his hand. Cautiously, he turned it about and watched as the sunlight glinted off the gold threads in the ribbon. Sighing softly, Harry tucked the ribbon into his pocket and opened the letter from Sirius, his eyes quickly scanning the parchment.

_"Harry –_

Not much time to write, but things are well here. I'll be seeing you sooner than you think, and please don't worry about me. In the meantime, don't do anything foolish.

Snuffles"

"Well if that wasn't just cryptic enough…" Harry muttered. Standing, he carefully creased the parchment and replaced them in his pockets, and got back to his tasks.

******

At 11:50 the next day, a very nervous and anxious Harry could be found meandering around the little park at the end of Privet Drive, his features pensive. Aunt Petunia hadn't even batted an eye at him when he had stated that he was going to go out for a while – in fact, he could sense some vague sense of relief from his aunt as he left. Glancing at his watch, Harry noticed that it was almost time to find a nice secluded place and to take out the ribbon. Finding what he was looking for in a copse of trees, Harry slipped the ribbon out of his pockets, and looked once more at his watch. The second hand was quickly reaching the point of no return, and Harry made a tighter fist around the ribbon. What if it didn't work? What if Dumbledore hadn't really sent that notice? What if this was another one of Voldemort's plots to kill him? What if…

Harry's mind barely had time to register the next thought of "What if…?" that flittered through his mind as the portkey took hold, and the jarring sensation that he had come to hate since the Triwizard Tournament took over. He found himself flying through space and time, landing with a soft "thud!" on the floor of a circular room, glasses askew.

"Harry!" The familiar voice of Hermione broke through his rather dazed reverie, and he stood, noticing the faces in the room. Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley clan save Ginny were sitting in the circular room, accompanied by Snape, Sirius, Lupin, and… Mrs. Figg? 

"What's going on here?" Harry asked softly, as Hermione's arms wrapped around him, gripping him tightly. His eyes continued to take in the appearance of the room, noticing that even Charlie Weasley was at the meeting, and his head was casually bobbing in the flames of one of the fireplaces that were scattered about the walls of the room. Everyone else was seated around a round table, and Harry noticed that Professor Dumbledore was seated at the table, smiling benignly at Harry.

"Welcome Harry. Please, take a seat next to Miss Granger." Professor Dumbledore waved one of his hands towards two empty chairs, and blinking in confusion, Harry sat down, curiously glancing at Ron, who was seated on the other side of him. 

"What's going on, Professor?" He asked, scooting in a little closer to the table. He was still suspicious, but if this was a Death Eater plot, they had really come up with something quite good this time. Hermione even smelled like Hermione… not that Harry was a good judge of such things. In fact, he had long since decided that it was more Ron's thing to pay close attention to how Hermione smelled.

"Well, Harry, this is the meeting area of the Order of the Phoenix. And as such, everyone gathered, with the exception of you, are all members of the Order."

"…Order of the Phoenix?" Harry asked, tilting his head curiously. The only phoenix that he had contact with was Fawkes, who was Professor Dumbledore's faithful pet. "But… I don't understand. And if this is some sort of Order, why am I here?"

"That's easy, Harry." Sirius interrupted, smiling across the table at his godson. "You're here because you've been invited to join the Order." 

Harry was quiet for a moment while he digested this information. Despite his few moments of thought on the subject matter, the next few words out of his mouth were the ever insightful "Why me?"

"Really, Potter – if you have to ask that question by now, then you obviously haven't been paying attention." Snape's voice broke through the room like a whip, and Harry's eyes snapped up to the Potion Master's.

"I believe what Professor Snape was trying to say, Harry, is that you were an obvious candidate for the Order because of your meetings, and subsequent triumphs, against Voldemort." Professor Dumbledore smiled at the bewildered young man, and he continued. "I started the Order during Voldemort's last reign as a chance to overthrow him and fight against the evil that he brought to us. Even then, the Ministry tried very hard to hide things from the public…" At those words, Professor Dumbledore shot an apologetic glance at Arthur Weasley, and continued. "And there was a need for someone to stop him. Your parents were members of the Order, as were Sirius and Remus." Harry blinked at this news, but he nodded, not wanting to interrupt the Headmaster – especially when his parents were being discussed. "As it stands now, the order includes all the people that you see here – including some others in other nations whom you will meet, and already have met. Since you are upon your 15th birthday here in a few days, you can not formally join the order until then, but as such, you have been invited. And I do strongly encourage you to join us. We could certainly use the gifts that you have at your disposal, Harry."

"Gifts?" Harry whispered, looking curiously at Professor Dumbledore. "But… why Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked, looking first to his right, and then his left. "This isn't their fight…" He whispered.

"Why not?" Ron asked, looking directly at Harry. "You and I are best mates, aren't we? Of course I'd be coming along on this ride, 'specially as my whole family is involved. And…" Ron paused to look over at Hermione, his eyes intense. "We couldn't leave 'Mione out of the loop. She –is- the cleverest witch of the age, wot?" Ron grinned. Hermione glared at him and just shook her head, scowling.

"But… you're in danger, Ron… both of you. No one should… you can't…" Harry stuttered, trying to get his thoughts in order to formulate his protests.

"Harry, Ron and Hermione are both of the age of 15. They have the right to choose to be apart of the Order, and as such they were both brought here and the process was explained to them. And they chose to join, as did everyone else here." Remus Lupin spoke, his voice soft.

"Including Sna… I mean, Professor Snape?" Harry asked, his eyes alighting on the potions master.

"Yes, including myself." Snape answered, before anyone else could. 

"Professor Snape has a role to play in this, just as you or I, Harry. And as such, he has been asked to also join the Order. Now, you don't have to answer us today. But on your birthday, you'll be receiving a very important visitor. Further instructions will be issued to you then, and you'll return to this room to give us your answer. Know that regardless of what you say, there will be no repercussions should you chose to not join in the fight. I daresay too much has been asked of you already." Dumbledore's last words were delivered with a smile, and he stood up, clearly adjourning the meeting. "You have a few minuets left to speak with your friends and your godfather before the portkey reacts again to take you back near Privet Drive." With a soft "pop!" Dumbledore disapparated.

"Oh, Harry, it's been so good to see you again!" Hermione breathed, launching into Harry for another hug. A soft "oof!" issued from Harry's voice as he hugged his friend, raising an eyebrow at Ron. Ron just shrugged and mouthed "She's mental!" over Hermione's head. Disentangling himself from his friend, Harry just shook his head.

"It's been wonderful to see you too, Hermione, but when were you two going to tell me about this?" Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowing. 

"We couldn't." Ron replied, shrugging. "It's against the rules and all that. Hermione and I didn't find out until we were really fifteen, but I guess you're a special case." Ron grinned, slapping an affectionate hand on Harry's back. "Of course, we all knew you were a special case anyways." Ron put a bit of emphasis on the word 'special' – just enough to convey the true meaning of what he said. Harry groaned at his friend, and then his godfather came walking up, enveloping Harry in a hug.

"Harry, you don't have to do this…" Sirius stated softly, letting his godson go. Harry nodded, the last words of Professor Dumbledore clear in his mind.

"I know, Sirius…" Harry whispered, his mind reeling. "I just… I don't know. It's all a lot to take in at once."

Hermione nodded knowingly, linking an affectionate arm with Ron's. Ron's ears began to turn pink, and he smiled a bit foolishly at the action. "It took me quite a while, actually. But, in the end, it all worked out." She murmured, smiling.

"I suppose so." Reaching into his pocket, Harry brought out the ribbon and frowned. "Do I have to go back to Privet Drive?" He asked softly. Sirius nodded.

"Unfortunately. But, you'll be getting to leave soon enough." At this idea, Harry brightened. He had long since received permission to spend the last two weeks of holiday at the Burrow, and he had been counting down the days excitedly. "As it is, I think the ribbon will be activating itself any moment now." Wrapping Harry up into a protective hug, Sirius sighed. "Harry, if you need anything… send me an owl. Please."

"I will, Sirius." Another hug was granted to him by Hermione, and he shared a smile with Ron before the portkey once more took effect, and he found himself landing back in the copse of trees from which he had disappeared, back into his ordinary Muggle life.

******

The next few days were a blur to Harry as he sat and contemplated the idea of the Order of the Phoenix, and everything else that he had since learned. It was these thoughts that he was dwelling upon when the clock struck midnight on July 31st, and the soft trilling sounds of a bird in the distance could be heard. Looking up, he saw a spark of crimson in the distance, and he knew that it was Fawkes. Something just told him that the phoenix was coming with instructions for Harry, to allow the young man to give his answer to Dumbledore.

Swooping in through the window, Fawkes landed on the bed and trilled at Harry, a letter attached to his leg. Smiling and petting the vibrant plumage of the phoenix, Harry opened the letter and read the contents.

_"Harry –_

If you are reading this letter, that means that the time has come to give me your answer. Fawkes will fly you to the appropriate location – I'm sure that you remember the way he flew you, Ms. Weasley, Professor Lockhart, and Mr. Weasley out of the Chamber of Secrets. This will take place once again at noon, and you will be able to deliver your answer then.

Professor Albus Dumbledore". 

Looking over at the phoenix, Harry sighed and once more scratched Fawkes' bright plumage. "I guess this is it then." He murmured. With a little over eleven hours remaining until he was due to give his answer, Harry decided that there was nothing better to do than sleep.

Removing his glasses and setting them on the rickety desk that was in the room, he laid on the bed and closed his eyes. Fawkes, sensing his intentions, made his way closer to Harry's head and began to sing softly, the tune soon lulling the newly aged fifteen year old into a deep slumber.

******

At exactly noon that same day, Harry found himself gripping Fawkes' tail feathers tightly and soaring into the air, unnoticed by anyone else. Under normal circumstances, Harry would be amazed at this, but this wasn't exactly the most normal circumstance that there was. 

The trip was over in a few scant minutes, and Harry found himself standing before an ornately carved door, in which a stylized phoenix was emblazoned. Bravely opening the doors, he entered to find all the previous members of the Order sitting around the table, this time with a real Charlie Weasley instead of a disembodied head.

"Harry, welcome. Have you decided?" Professor Dumbledore asked, standing from his place at the round table.

"I have." Harry's palms began to sweat, and he shifted uncomfortably as all eyes in the room came to rest upon him. 

"And what have you decided?" The voice was soft, and encouraging.

"I accept your invitation." 


	2. Chapter Two

**_At The Beginning, book one  
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_**

**_Chapter Two_**

Ginny Weasley was curled up on the ancient couch in her mother and father's home, idly sketching the fireplace before her. This was one of her favorite past times – sketching. Very few people outside of her family knew this, and this was just the way Ginny liked it. She had taken up sketching shortly after the Chamber of Secrets – it had provided her with the perfect opportunity to get out all the emotions that had been boiling within her when it came to Tom Riddle and Basilisks.

At first, the pictures had been quite dark, full of anger and hatred. But as time dulled the memories and the pain of the experience, and several sketchbooks had become full of pictures, Ginny had slowly healed and had begun to draw other things – things like her surroundings, and her friends. Most notably, Harry.

A wry smile touched upon her face at the thought of Harry Potter. He had been at the Burrow for a week now, and things had shifted between the two of them. Before, where he had always been distantly polite, now he was more friendly, even taking time out from playing Quidditch and listening to her brother Ron go on and on about Hermione and Viktor Krum, to talk about her day. And that just made Ginny smile brighter. It had done the both of them a world of good – she no longer stuttered and became exceedingly clumsy and tongue tied before him, and he was more relaxed. The result of this burgeoning friendship was a greater understanding on both parts – no more of the adolescent hero worship that had affected her previous Harrythoughts, and no more of his barely seeing her, just accepting her as Ron's sister. 

Pulling the quill away from her parchment for a moment, she paused, thinking of Harry. He was smiling, which was good – his time at the Burrow always seemed to make him happier. It didn't do much to diminish the nightmares that he had confessed of having every night, but at least now he wasn't unhappy in the daytimes – that had to count for something, yes?

Dipping the quill once more in colored ink, she began to trace another line onto the parchment when the very object of her thoughts came stumbling down the stairs, his wild hair even more than usual, and his eyes cloudy and fogged with sleepiness. "Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, a blot of ink appearing on her sketch. She turned and frowned at the sketch before setting it out to allow the ink to dry. The sketch could be salvaged, time with Harry could not.

"'lo, Ginny." Harry muttered, stumbling into the kitchen. A few moments later the sound of water could be heard, and the clink of a glass signified that Harry had found what he was looking for. Frowning, the youngest Weasley adjourned her seat and made her way into the kitchen, where Harry was staring blankly out the window.

"Rough night?" she commented idly, reaching for the bread box and the slices of bread contained therein. Using conventional methods (which is to say the Muggle way of doing things) she toasted some bread and added butter, before handing him one of the pieces and nibbling on the second for herself. Harry, for his part, said nothing. He continued to stare outside, his jaw working automatically as he chewed. "Was it the Chamber this time, or Cedric?" Ginny asked softly. 

"The Chamber, surprisingly enough." Harry murmured. Turning from the window, he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice and took a large gulp before continuing. "You were laying there at Tom's feet, and he was laughing. Instead of giving me a fighting chance this time, he placed a Full Body Bind on me and then the Basilisk swallowed you."

Ginny flinched. Harry never minced words when it came to discussing his nightmares with her, and she was glad about that. Although sometimes she wished that he would make the truth a little bit more fuzzy, mostly for her sanity's sake. No doubt, there would be snakes in her dreams tonight.

"Thank the gods it didn't happen that way." Ginny murmured, placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. He simply nodded, and threw his head back to drain the rest of his pumpkin juice. Ginny smiled at him once more and returned to the living room, where she proceeded to take care of the mess that her parchment had become.

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, following her into the living room after pouring himself another glass of pumpkin juice. 

"Oh, he went with dad to get Hermione. I guess tomorrow we're going into Diagon Alley." Ginny replied, scrubbing furiously at the parchment with Mrs. Beatman's All Purpose Ink Remover.

"Oooh, that's right." Harry muttered, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes. The two of them continue to sit like that, in companionable silence as the moments ticked by. Ginny's parchment had been restored to its previous pristine state, and now she was busily sketching again. But it wasn't the fireplace that was taking shape on this paper this time. Instead, it was another memory of the Chamber.

_"Tom? Where are you? Why am I here?" An eleven year old Ginny Weasley asked, staring at the large stone statue of Salazar Slytherin. "What's going on?" She asked, softly. _

"I brought you here, Ginny. You trust me, correct?" The words weren't written this time. Instead, Tom's voice seemed to come from within the head of Salazar Slytherin, and Ginny blinked in confusion.

"Why… why do you sound like you're coming from in there?" She asked, peering into the darkness of the dank chamber.

"Because I'm here – this is where I've been all along. And you're here to help restore me to my body." Tom explained, stepping out of the darkness. He was fuzzy, and indistinct. But she could definitely tell that this was a young man, one slightly older than her, and marginally more old fashioned. He was cute too – not as cute as Harry, but cute nonetheless.

"What do I need to do?" Ginny asked, standing up straighter. It wouldn't do to slouch in front of such a nice young man, especially one who had been so calm and understanding this whole year.

"Nothing… except stand there." And with a few whispered words, Ginny found herself slowly fading into darkness. 

"Tom?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper. A maniacal laughter filled her ears as the blackness became more pronounced.

"Silly girl. Your reward for your silliness will be to die as I take your soul, and your essence – and use it to restore myself!" 

Ginny tried to open her mouth, but to no avail. The Darkness had claimed her.

Wrapped up in that memory, the picture slowly began to unfold, as she sketched in the hazy form of Tom Riddle coming out of the mouth of Salazar Slytherin, and her own body standing there. She was unaware of the eyes of Harry upon her, as she continued to sketch. Tears pooled in her eyes as she relieved those moments over and over again, the last of what could have been the end of her life, had it not been for Harry. Finally, the picture was done, and she thrust the parchment from her, collapsing in a fit of sobs.

Harry, for his part, didn't look the least bit perturbed by Ginny's outburst. It wasn't the first time that she had gone into her unpleasant memories and drawn something for him – and he knew that it wasn't going to be the last. In the past week, he had spent enough time with Ginny Weasley to know that her sketchbook was apart of her soul, and that she too was still suffering at the hands of Voldemort. But the two of them had begun to talk, and to get to know each other – soon spilling secrets and tales of their nightmares. The darkness that had slowly begun to permeate their souls was slowly being replaced by a light that both of them were grateful for, and neither one would ever turn away.

Letting Ginny get her initial outburst out, Harry scooted closer to her on the couch and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against him. "Shhh." He whispered, his voice soft. "Tom's gone. He won't hurt you again, and you don't ever have to suffer that same fate. I promise I won't let that happen to you." It wasn't the first time that he had promised Ginny something like this, and it wouldn't be the last, that he knew. He began to gently rock back and forth, hoping to calm the scared girl in his arms. Her sobs had finally subsided when the door to the Burrow blasted open, and screams could be heard from the front yard.

"Ronald Weasley, you are an insufferable prat!" The enraged voice of Hermione Granger reached his ears, and Harry raised an eyebrow at the screaming. The Muggle-born witch came stomping into the Burrow, her eyes aflame with anger. "I can't believe that you would sit there, in front of my parents, and insinuate such a thing!" Hermione screamed, before stomping up the stairs and to Ginny's room.

"Look, 'Mione, I didn't think that they'd take it that way, 'k? C'mon, don't be sore at me. 'Mione!" Ron came flying into the Burrow after her, hollering up the stairs. Receiving no response from the upset young woman upstairs, Ron turned to where Harry was still comforting Ginny, and rolled his eyes.

"GIRLS!"

******

Hermione Granger stared at the red headed young man in front of her, her eyes narrowing dangerously. She wouldn't tolerate another one of his outbursts like the one from the other day, she had decided. Once was far too many – especially considering that Viktor Krum wasn't her boyfriend, or anything of the sort. Turning to her other red headed companion, Hermione began whispering.

"So… tell me how the rest of your summer was!" She prodded, grinning knowingly at Ginny. Ginny flushed slightly.

"It was… well, amazing. Especially when Ha… he came to visit. I didn't drop anything!" Ginny whispered back furiously, and Hermione grinned, before giving Ginny a quick hug. She wasn't worried about the boys paying attention. They were far too busy drooling over something in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies – and Hermione and Ginny had taken the brief reprieve to catch each other up. "What did Ron say to upset you so much yesterday, anyways?" Ginny asked softly, her large brown eyes full of concern.

"Your brother is an insufferable prat, that's what. I told him that I had gone to Bulgaria to visit Viktor, and I explicitly mentioned that I was with my family, and he just exploded! Never mind the fact that my family was there, or that Viktor's family was there, or that we were only there for a few days before receiving a message from Professor Dumbledore to come back home."

"That's horrid! Why did Professor Dumbledore want you to come back home?" Ginny asked, her features marring with a frown. "Did he think that You-Know-Who was on the loose there in Bulgaria or something?"

Hermione sighed, and mentally berated herself for mentioning that little tidbit. Ginny still didn't know about the Order, and she wouldn't until her birthday, which was several months off. It killed Hermione to keep a secret such as this from her best friend, but she had been sworn to secrecy… and Hermione always kept her promises.

"Um. Yes, it was something like that." Hermione then changed the subject, hoping that Ginny didn't catch her in that lie, and that Ginny didn't notice the hesitation on Hermione's part. "I wonder why we're going to need dress robes this year? In my prefect letter, Professor McGonagall didn't mention anything about a ball…" Hermione murmured, withdrawing the letter that held the words that Hermione had hoped for all summer.

"I don't know… maybe it'll be another ball? Oooh, what if it's a ball on my birthday?" Ginny sighed, her eyes taking on a glassy look. "That would be awesome. Harry would find out it's my birthday, and he'd come up to me and look me in the eyes and then kiss me in front of the whole common room!" 

For a moment, Hermione stared at Ginny like she had lost her head. But then understanding dawned in the prefect's eyes as she realized that Ginny wasn't serious. Soon, both girls erupted in a fit of laughter that brought the boys out of their Quidditch induced reveries.

"What d'ya suppose that's all about?" Ron muttered, shooting a venomous glare at Hermione as the two girls laughed.

"I dunno." Harry replied absently, frowning at the sight of Ginny Weasley laughing her head off in the middle of Diagon Alley. It wasn't the fact that she was laughing that bothered him – it was the fact that he was noticing how pretty her laughter was. And the fact that he was noticing this, especially about Ron's Little Sister, bothered Harry.

******

"Kids! It's time to get a move on!" Molly Weasley called upstairs. Ron groaned as he attempted to stuff a few last items into his already overfull trunk. "Be there in a minute, mum!" He called down. He could hear Harry's snickering at his predicament, and Ron, in a fit of immaturity, stuck his tongue out at his best mate.

"I'd like to see you do this!" Ron muttered. Harry shrugged and opened his trunk.

"You can always put some of your stuff in here until we get to school." Harry offered, leaving the trunk open. "I'll let you get it all sorted. Meanwhile, close the lid." Harry's soft laughter could be heard floating down the stairs and towards the kitchen where, undoubtedly, there was breakfast. 

Groaning to himself, Ron picked up the set of midnight blue robes that Fred and George had gotten him during their trip to Diagon Alley and sighed. It wouldn't hurt to stow some things in Harry's trunk, especially as their trunks were all going to the same place practically. Taking out the robes and flinging them, Ron was startled by the muffled squeak of a female behind him. "Huh? Who's there?" He asked, staring at the standing pile of dress robes.

"Honestly, Ron." The voice of Hermione could be heard. Ron smiled and helped the young woman disentangle herself from the robes. 

"Sorry, 'Mione." He apologized. Hermione just shrugged. 

"It's ok. I just came up to see how far along both you and Harry were on the packing." She ran her fingers over the velvet of the robes, before picking them up and rubbing them against her cheek. "These are so soft. Are they your new dress robes?" She queried, looking at Ron.

"Um. Yeah. Fred and George got 'em for me. Why, I dunno. I had Mum check them for hexes before I even tried 'em on."

Hermione nodded. "Smart move." She took out the robes and shook them once, before folding them neatly and placing them in Harry's trunk. "I see you ran out of room finally." She smiled.

"Yeah. I'm hoping to put an enlargement charm on this thing when we get to school. Can't have all my stuff in Harry's trunk, y'know." Hermione just nodded, her eyes never leaving Ron.

"Yes." Smiling enigmatically, she turned towards the door. "Breakfast is getting cold." She murmured, before carefully closing the door behind her. Ron frowned, and sat down on his bed. Hermione had been acting quite strange as of late. When they had gone to pick the young witch up from the Muggle world, she had practically thrown herself into his arms, going on about how much she had missed him – and then in the same breath had told him about Bulgaria.

Bulgaria. Krum. Ron's frown grew deeper, and the thoughtful look in his eyes became more troubled. Why did that git have to be so interested in Hermione anyways? Yes, she was the cleverest witch in all of Hogwart's History, and she did have a tendency to always know the answers, but what, other than that, did Krum know about Hermione? HIS Hermione? Did Krum know about the hairs that would tickle her neck while she was studying, or the way she would close her eyes after reading something, to give it a few moments to sink in?

Did Krum know about the way she had stood up for what she knew was true and right, like with the house elves, or Buckbeak? Hell, even with Crookshanks? Did Krum know enough about his Hermione to be inviting her to foreign countries and attempting to snog her under the Bulgarian sky?

Growling, Ron finished shoving his things into Harry's trunk and shut the lids, before stomping down to breakfast. His mood had been considerably soured by these thoughts of "Vicky" and he wanted nothing more to pick a fight with Hermione. What did she think she was doing, anyways, going to visit Krum? Didn't she know that she didn't have to go all the way to Bulgaria when she had him right here? He'd be willing to snog her!

Oh yes, Ron had finally faced up to his feelings for Hermione. It had taken a good portion of the summer in which to do so, but he had never felt more free after he had finally looked in the mirror and stated: "I like Hermione. I mean like like Hermione."

"Good for you! Now tell her that!" The mirror had replied. And Ron, being the thickheaded lovable prat that he is, chose to ignore the advice. Running down the stairs, Ron started muttering loudly, formulating insults and comments about Viktor and Bulgaria to get Hermione started. Nothing like a fight with her to take out his aggressions.

******

Sighing as he sank into one of the benches on the Hogwarts Express, Harry was never so glad for the quiet as he was now. Ron and Hermione had been at it ever since breakfast, and it had shown no signs of letting up until Ginny had stepped in. _"Silencio Totalus!"_ She had cried, first at Ron, and then at Hermione. Both had been immediately silenced, and she had fixed them with a harsh look.

"I refuse to listen to the two of you fuss any longer. You can just sit out the rest of the trip in silence for all I care, and I'm sure Harry feels the same way." Harry had nodded, a bit dumbfounded at Ginny's demeanor. "And then when we get to Hogwarts, you can speak again. But not until then!" Ginny had said, settling herself next to Harry.

The silence had been golden since then, and the two of them had chatted amiably until the lady with the trolley cart had come around. Harry had bought for everyone before he realized that Ron and Hermione might not be able to eat.

"Hey, Gin? Can they still eat with that spell?" He asked.

"Huh? Oh, yes, they can. They just can't speak." Ginny had become immersed in her sketchbook once more, and Harry smiled to see her happy again. The way the sun refracted through the windows and onto her hair had made it glow, and he had stolen quite a few glances at her whenever time had afforded it. He had been in the midst of one of those glances when Malfoy had chosen to peek into their compartment, with Crabbe and Goyle, as always. It was tradition, after all.

"Go away." Both Harry and Ginny had echoed, never once looking up from their separate tasks. Ron and Hermione were both sound asleep on different benches.

"What's the matter, Potter? Don't want me to wake up the Mudblood and her boyfriend? Afraid they'll catch you snogging with the youngest Weasel here?" Malfoy cracked, his voice growing louder. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ron's eyes flying open, and Hermione's hand reaching for her wand. He looked over and caught Ginny's eye, who muttered a soft _"Finite Incantatem!"_ Hermione threw a grateful look in Ginny's direction before brandishing her wand.

"This tradition is getting old, Malfoy." Hermione murmured, catching the Slytherin's attention. "I suggest you leave before I am forced to take points from Slytherin." 

"I wouldn't try it. Because then I'd have to double the points I took from Gryffindor for bratty know it alls." Malfoy sneered, and for the first time Harry noticed that he too had a prefect badge on. 

"Daddy must've bought that for you too, huh?" Ron stated, sitting up and brandishing his wand, a prefect badge also gleaming on his chest.

"At least my father can afford something like this, Weasel." Turning towards the door, Malfoy made a curt motion at Crabbe and Goyle, and they started back towards their compartment. "Oh. I'd suggest watching your backs this year. No doubt the Dark Lord will be making a few appearances. If we get lucky, Potter may finally become the Boy-Who-Died." With that, the trio of Slytherins disappeared into their own compartment.


End file.
